i loved her with dark hair

laure-demontety  asked:

Curly dark hair; a pronounced taste for books and knowledge; bright dark eyes and a mouth filled with intelligence, Renata, a true Ravenclaw, was alluring of mind. So alluring one could not do anything but wanter around her mind and her wit. And she graced them with the gift of learning.

I confess that I was ashamed to answer this. It’s in my inbox for so long. I mean, I didn’t want to take this out from my inbox. It’s high praise, I don’t deserve that much. 


You know very well how much I love you and respect. You’re my first friend here. It’s been what? More than two years I suppose. Even with an ocean between us, we have a connection that I believe it’s spiritual and intelectual. I’ll always remember everytime I felt I needed to talk to you, and guess what? You needed me too. It’s more than we can talk about a lot of friends in “real life”.

 Our bond is so strong that allow us to share the love with others. The miracle of love and friendship is that the more we share, the more we have. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. We have a little family in Rolisla fandom @daizydoe (my twin sister from another mister), @zoesongs (our wise and inspiring friend), @ourashesofroses (our Italian baby girl), @princessgisla (our talented friend that will help us to kidnap Hirst and change season 4b for Rollo and Gisla while drinking Guinness, hahaha) and more people that I couldn’t tag here because I have a lot of writing and reading ahead of me.


I’m so glad I dragged you to Ivar’s Heathen Army as well. An united group of talented, supportive, funny, crazy (I think it’s time to accept that we are crazy, hahaha) ladies and guys. 


I’m glad I’m surrounded by positive and lovely people. 

Originally posted by osmosis-art

 Blood runs from the cut onto the book cover, onto the mermaid sitting on a rock. A trickle of blood cuts the picture in half. Her face is smeared red. She cannot see. Sea. Water, deep and cool and calm, heaving in the stillness of the dark. A bridge spans the neck of an estuary, its woven metal glints in the moonlight. The Little Mermaid with long, wet, golden hair beckons me with her seaweed-covered hands… Standing on the wall of the bridge, I hear the mer-city call, echoes soothing me under… 

(Exert from Gul Y. Davis’s The Lone Walk)

Get this, Denmark with real human emotions.

anonymous asked:

Elizabeth & Eleanor for 10?

“There was a time before all of this.”

Eleanor probably hadn’t slept the night before. Dozens of files were left scattered across her desk, plenty of lidded boxes remained opened, and her coffee cup was ringed with numerous use. She worked hard for them both, pursuing medicine like her mother but with a strong tenacity of her father, and that couldn’t be faulted. It wouldn’t have been silly if she’d thought she was hearing her own thoughts, when she blinked and glanced over her shoulder at Elizabeth.

“What’s that, my love?”

“I just asked the time.”

Eleanor stretched and sighed and looked sheepish when she turned from looking at her watch. “Not the right time for me to sleep, but…”

Elizabeth smiled from where she leant at the doorway. Her deep dark hair still held its curls from the night before, her body swathed in a silk gown. It was ten o'clock and outside the city of Paris was bustling and more than awake.

Eleanor moved them here for her health.

This was a timeline where everything was normal. No Rapture, no Columbia, no pain for Eleanor. Her parents, Dr. Sofia Lamb and John Cassidy, lived between America and England and Elizabeth was the only one to know anything different. It could have weighed on her mind, possessing these powers still, refraining from using them, but she’d learned to stunt them. Whilst her partner tried to act the mature one, here she was with the mantle of a God pulling at her.

In a thousand, million other timelines, Rapture did exist. Eleanor was tortured. Maybe she never escaped the drowned city – Elizabeth didn’t wish to venture into any tears like that or she’d shed her own.

And maybe it was selfish to root herself here, just because Eleanor was happy and untouched by any of the rot of trauma, where she could pretend she was just the same. But the both of them were happy, and wasn’t that what she deserved?

“I’m sorry, Lizzie…”

Eleanor came to her, towering at her six feet, and warmly cupped Elizabeth’s face in her hands. “I’m a daft woman who stays up all night on cases and is miserable all the next day and ignores you…”

Elizabeth shook her head and let her be taken into her arms. She kissed the other girl’s soft cheek and her smile returned, a fraction of it tainted with a reflection Eleanor could never notice, or understand. She could remember all the other times they’d met for the first time, as children, or as adults. She remembered Eleanor’s wise, captivated gaze each time.

She wouldn’t trade this chaos for anything.

“You’re wonderful, Eleanor,” she murmured. “But you can make it up to me. Let’s go for dinner when you’ve had a nap – you pay.”

“Ah! That’s so cheeky.” Eleanor pecked at her more, until her cheeks were now red and dewy. “Fine.”

When Eleanor laughed, the thought that she was selfish threatened Elizabeth’s mind again. Somewhere else, she was crying. But somewhere else, another Elizabeth was crying too.

Dear Future Daughter:

1) When you’re at some party, chain smoking on the roof with some strange girl with blue hair and exorbitant large dark eyes, ask her about her day. I promise you, you won’t regret it. Often times you’ll find the strangest of people have the most captivating of stories to tell.

2) Please, never mistake desire for love. Love will engulf your soul, whilst desire will emerge as acid, slowly making it’s way through your veins, gradually burning you from the inside out.

3) No one is going to fucking save you, anything you’ve read or heard otherwise is bullshit.

4) One day a boy is going to come along who’s touch feels like fire and who’s words taste like vanilla, when he leaves you, you will want to die. If you know anything at all, know that it is only temporary.

5) Your mental health comes before school baby, always. If its midnight, and you have an exam the next day but your hands have been shaking for the past hour and a half and you’re not so sure you want to be alive anymore, pull out that carton of Ben and Jerry’s and afterwards, go the fuck to bed. So what if you get a 68% on the exam the next day? You took care of yourself and at the end of the day that will always come before a high test score. To hell with anyone who tells you differently

—  Abbie Nielsen

As per request, miraculous ladybug Cinderella style. I still really love the 2015 Cinderella and I had a great time drawing this. I really loved her dress and I decided to keep it very similar. I kept the butterflies because they reminded me of purified akumas, so I tried to vary them from a dark blackish red to the brilliant white one in her hair.

She didn’t have to speak to say that she had lost someone she loved.

You could see it in her dark circles, chapped lips, and messy hair.

You could see it in the way she stopped trying to take care of herself, and how she took on bad habits.

When she rolls around in her bed, sleepless, she makes sure to stay on her side of the bed

In case, he ever comes back.

—  excerpt from a book I’ll never write #32 // @loveactivist
snippet from LoS 5/23/17

Snippet from Lord of Shadows - unexpected alliances…


Lord of Shadows

Kieran muttered something under his breath and said, “I will swear loyalty to Mark. I will do as he bids me do, and follow the Nephilim for his sake. And I shall argue with Prince Adaon for your cause, though it is his choice in the end.”

Something flickered in Julian’s eyes. “No,” he said. “You will not do this for Mark.”

Mark looked at his brother, startled; Kieran’s expression tensed. “Why not Mark?”

“Love complicates things,” said Julian. “An oath should be free of entanglements.”

Kieran looked as if he might explode. His hair had gone com- pletely black. With an angry look at Julian, he strode toward the Shadowhunters—and knelt in front of Cristina.

Everyone looked surprised, none more than Cristina. Kieran tossed his dark hair back and looked up at her, a challenge in his eyes. “I swear fealty to you, Lady of Roses.”

Did you ever have a genuine psychic/medium experience?

Although many readings can be attributed to cold readings or sheer coincidence sometimes it’s uncanny how accurate psychics/mediums can be. Here’s a collection of supposedly genuine experiences from threads. If you have an experience feel free to tag me @sixpenceee!

by reddit user Jinuxxx

I never believe in palm /card readings. I don’t actually believe in it nowadays. BUT when I was in 9th grade, my friend took me with her to a fortune teller so she can have her future read. Surprisingly she mentioned about her love dilemma, a blonde guy and dark haired guy. She was completely convinced about her reading powers while I was meh… We’re teenagers, it’s natural we’ll find ourselves in situations like this. And then she predicted the scores she’ll get at the exams when you finish high school (in our country there are some mandatory subjects for the exams, thus multiple numbers) she guessed that right. If I think really hard about probabilities and stuff I can find a logic explanation to that as well. 

by reddit user GoobyBear22

About 5 years ago I saw a psychic that a family friend had told me was the real deal. I went in skeptical and came out a believer.

She used tarot cards and knew things that could have been lucky guesses, like that I had just bought a house and was renovating it, but she also knew specific things that no one else could have known.

The most amazing part of the whole thing was that she knew that I had some complications with my hormones and had a surgery in the past that would make getting pregnant very difficult, but she told me Despite all this, I would have a baby later in life. Toward the end of the reading she hands me the tarot cards and tells me to shuffle them. Then tells me to ask three questions in my mind one at a time. I decided to really test her authenticity so the first question I decided to ask was am I going to have children, and halfway through laying the five cards down, she stops and looks at me and scolds me saying “I already told you that you were going to have one child!” hah this is when I knew.

by reddit user wobblerss

This was before I was born. My mom had a neighbor who was a grandpa who could see the future. He told my mom that my sister would be really sick when she became a preteen and not to worry because she’d be okay. When my sister was a preteen she was diagnosed with cancer and after a year and a half she was perfectly fine. My mom was pregnant with me when she met him again and he told her that I would be a c-section baby. My mom already knew this and said she had scheduled the c-section already since I was breach but he was adamant that she would have me on a certain day and that the c-section wouldn’t go on the planned day. I was born on the exact day he predicted.

Nothing too crazy but the fact that he knew that my sister would be sick and would be okay is crazy to me. He also didn’t want any money and approached my mom and asked if he could do a reading for her.

Keep reading

no promises

He needs her more than anything else, he needs to be close, to be touched and held. He needs nails grazing his skin and teeth dragging along his shoulder. Because he feels a little less like a machine, and a little more like a person when he’s with her. All despite her tenacious attempts to keep him distant from her.

Illuminate x Her series, Pt. I, Pt. II
Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Her 
Rating: Explicit
Words: 1751

They tumble through the hotel room door, his palm swiftly pushing it shut behind their entangled bodies. Her hands wander up his chest and her arms find their way around his neck, a need to be close dragging her to him. Their lips detach from one another’s during brief moments when they both push their jackets off their shoulders and take off their shoes in a hurry, and when he pulls her top over her head. Her fingers work fast to unbutton his shirt and remove it from his body while his hands move to cup her bottom. 

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You.
You are messy hair and shy smiles,
deep voice and drunk nights alone,
silenced thoughts and rushed words,
blurry lines and my new favourite song.

You are a satellite image of a city from high up above,
vast, but oh so beautiful.

You are made of starry winter skies and warm jumpers,
homemade candles and fairy lights,
unfinished art projects and splattered paint.

You are false hope, envy, blissful ignorance,
her love and not mine.
You are warmth and sunlight in a dark room,
laughter and butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

Me.
I think I’m in love with you.
Hope that’s okay.

—  carlinrose 
8

dark willow + seven devils by florence and the machine for @mylittleshipperhart

They can keep me out
‘Til I tear the walls
'Til I save your heart
And to take your soul
For what has been done
Cannot be undone
In the evil’s heart
In the evil’s soul

her colors are muted and she looks tired.
‘holding up,’ she says,
and i’m just holding up too but god, this contrast;
light and dark,
soft and bold,
melancholy and anger,
beauty and the furthest thing from it.
she is unsettling, yet…
not in a bad way.
not at all.

and she is lovely.
her eyes are gentle,
blue like twilight
(and i understand for the first time why
they’re supposed to be the windows to the soul).
her hair is not spun gold
and she doesn’t shine like the sun;
she is the moon in all its glory.
the kind of light she carries cannot be explained–
it’s in her bones and the way she walks,
and the way she speaks.
soft,
like she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.

but she is beautiful.

god built the universe
with a voice like that.

—  when a girl loves a girl the stars fall to the earth.
2

Something Just Like This ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

Requested: Can I request a Jeff Atkins imagine about morning after with him. And like Jeff would be so cute whispering sweet nothings in his gfs ear while also saying some dirty jokes lolol omg I CANT

The human body contains an innumerable amount of nerve cells. The best we can do is estimate that there are some billion. It is incredible how there are billions of nerve cells working in our bodies and something as simple as the touch of one person can send all of those imperceptible cells into a fervor.

It’s 9:05 on a Sunday morning. The window is slightly cracked, letting the fresh autumn air circulate in. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically with shallow breaths as she pretends to still be sleeping. Small circles are being drawn on her back, clockwise, then counter clockwise. Then it switches to a word, or rather, a name. Jeff.

His fingers drag across her skin gently. First he writes it how you would normally write your name. Then in cursive, in all caps, capitalizing every other letter, looping letters, block letters.

“Are you marking me?” she mumbles tiredly. She can feel him laughing as he wraps his arms around her midsection, pulling her flush against his chest. He kisses the top of her head, nuzzling his face into her hair where traces of his cologne are trapped within the tresses. He’s everywhere. In her hair, on her skin, and where he doesn’t leave a physical presence he takes up residence in the place where her mind wanders.

“In more ways than one,” a smug tone drips off his tongue as he brings his one hand up to grasp her throat loosely, his thumb rubbing one of many dark purple splotches.

“Jeffff,” she whines, scrunching her neck up. Those are gonna be a bitch to cover up, but he loves them. He loves the way they whisper I was here. I will be here for as long as you want me. I love you. I love you.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he whispers into her ear, letting his lips linger. A shiver works its way down her back involuntarily. It’s almost annoying- how easily he gets to her. Just the sound of his voice is enough to set her skin on fire.

“You’re awful,” she tries to sound stern, but there’s a teasing tone in her voice that gives her away. It’s hard to be annoyed when images of the previous night and all the nights before that flood her mind.

“Yeah?” he questions, an impish inflection shaping his voice, “tell me, which part was less than satisfactory?”

He cups the bottom of her jaw with his palm and pushes upward gently, stretching her neck without causing pain. The bed jostles as his weight shifts to lean over her, his lips ghosting over the thin skin of her neck. It starts with soft pecks that progress to biting and sucking until the unblemished skin becomes a dark shade of red and purple. “Was it this?” he asks against her skin.

His hands grip her bare thighs, wrapping them around his waist. His fingers drag down from the top of her thighs down to the bend of her knees and then back up. Instinctively, her arms lock around his neck, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “Was it this?” he asks against her lips.

“Oh hush. You’re perfect and you know it,” her voice is breathy as she tries to swallow her own desire. He is perfect, in every sense of the word. He has the kindest heart she has ever known.

“Perfect enough to make you happy?” he says earnestly. He lifts his head to be able to see her face clearly and wholly. Her cheeks have developed a pink tint and her eyes are soft and dreamlike, like she’s looking at the gates of heaven.

“Perfect or imperfect, I am happy,” she grabs his face between her hands delicately, “I’m happy and I love you.”

“Say it again,” he begs as his eyes flutter shut.

“I love you, Jeff Atkins.”

And then he’s kissing her. His lips are familiar but the feeling of them on hers makes her heart race like it’s the first time all over again. His body presses down against hers and she can feel every bump of hard muscle under soft skin. The distance between them is virtually nonexistent. Her heart hangs suspended in the space where she ends and he begins.

“You know,” she says in-between kisses, “this is why the morning after always turns into round two.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll work on keeping my hands to myself,” he laughs, burying his face into her neck.

“That was not a complaint, you keep your hands right where they are,” she returns his laugh whilst running her fingers through his hair.

“Yes ma’am,” he kisses her jaw, “I love you. I adore you with all my heart.”

“That makes me pretty lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he assures, “but speaking of being ‘lucky’, how ‘bout that round two?”

“You’re relentless,” she giggles pleasantly, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop.”

“Well that would make me a liar,” this time she kisses him, initiating an evocative situation. He responds immediately, his hands tangling in the thin lacy fabric covering her bottom half.

To be adored by a person with such a pure heart is to be loved absolutely. Few ever meet a person like that, but when they do it is significant. It marks a before and after in their life, and how lucky they are to have been loved by a person who knows what it means to love without limit. How lucky they are to have something just like this.


Masterlist

Gifs (X) (X)

Forgotten (M)

Originally posted by mayfifolle

Summary: Loving Kim Taehyung was just so cruel, since he only saw you as his childhood friend. But after years of wanting him to return your affection, you finally saw the look of love shine on his eyes - but it wasn’t meant for you. No, it was meant for her…
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, bestfriend!au, university!au
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Original request here . 


Loving Kim Taehyung was like treasuring a forbidden artifact – you could appreciate it and love it from afar, but you could never touch it, never have it – just stand still and admire from a distance. Just like the artifact, he was untouchable and you could never have him the way you always wished for. Why? Well that was because he was your best friend since you were toddlers, but that was it.

You two were inseparable. Always playing and working together, making your classmates assume that you two liked each other. Of course, every time that accusation was made, you’d both deny it while saying how gross it was – but even then you knew you were lying.

At the mere age of 14, you realized that you didn’t just have a silly little crush on him anymore, no, you had fallen deeply in love with him. But who didn’t? His affectious boxy smile and playful bright attitude attracted many people towards him over the years, much to your dismay. But Taehyung always brushed it aside, and kept his attention solely on you. That is, once you two entered high school, then it all changed for the worse.

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Vive el Momento (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Requested: No, but @illuminateshawn and I live for drunk, festival Mendes in that red shirt from Amsterdam.

Word count: 4,947

“Can I have three large beers, thanks” I smiled, handing the girl in front of me my money. The sun was burning into my back, heating up my entire body slowly.

“I just love this weather” my friend Julia said. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to fully enjoy the warm rays of sun burning in her face.

“Me too” I agreed, looking around the festival filled with drunk people having fun everywhere.

To me, this was what summer was all about; heat, friends, music and beers. Actually, going to festivals was my happy place, I loved the whole idea of just letting go and enjoy yourself as much as possible; meeting new people and staying up until the early hours when the sun rose again.

“Girl, don’t look now but that guy… he’s looking again” Julia laughed, taking of her black sunglasses.

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High for This

High for This by evansrogerskitten

Dean x Reader x Sam, John x Reader

A witch’s curse hexes the three Winchester men and reader, leading to a night of desire that would change things forever.

Warnings: Explicit, Smut, Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Threesome (NO Wincest), Fingering, Language, Dom!John, discussion of being high, dirty talk, orgasm denial, squirting, spanking, mention of a panic attack, Feels, A lil fluff, lack of protection, canon divergence. To be clear- the characters have all consented to all sexual acts in this story. 

Word Count: 8408 | On AO3 | This is inspired by the song High for This by The Weeknd, and my first song for @mrs-squirrel-chester Album Fanficfion Challenge. 

This fic had a mind of its own but I love it. I hope you do too :)


The Impala rolled into a parking space on the street and Sam killed the engine. I straightened the sleeves of my navy fed suit, and looked over at him.

“You really think she’s going to know anything?” Sam pestered, looking through the window.

“Witnesses said two of the victims had been here to see her for readings.” I responded, climbing out of the car. I patted my jacket pocket to make sure I still had my fake FBI badge. “She does readings on love and relationships.”

Sam rolled his eyes as we walked up the sidewalk to the old house.

“What if she’s really psychic then? She’ll know we’re hunters.” Sam suggested sarcastically as he looked over his shoulder to the street.

“Then we’ll improvise. It’ll be fine, Sam.” I responded, looking around the front porch. A bright Psychic Reader sign lit up the front window.

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His || Jungkook || 0.19

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 | 0.18 | 0.19 |

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